Fanfic Court: The Trial part 2C:The Conclusion
by snooky-9093
Summary: The final chapter of the the trial of the century is up. It was a combined effort. WARNING: High and embarrassing "Mary Sue" content. Don't complain. I warned you.
1. The Expert Witness

"The Expert Witness"

Submitted by Snooky

Michael Kuzak, Perry Mason and the rest of the defense team were conferring amongst themselves. Kuzak had managed to find an expert witness to testify regarding the metaphysical evidence that had cropped up during Snooky's recall.

"I think you will be satisfied with his credentials, Perry." Michael and Perry were walking back to the courtroom together.

"Are you sure? He seems kind of flighty to me."

"He's a genius, Perry. If anyone can explain this mumbo-jumbo to the jury, he can. Oh, here he comes now." A silver DeLorean came screeching to a halt outside the courthouse.

*********

"I would like to call my next defense witness, Judge. He is an expert in metaphysical phenomena."

"Cool," Harry said. "I hope he can explain this stuff without giving everyone a headache!" The spectators laughed.

"I think you'll be pleased, Judge." Kuzak turned to the bailiffs. "Please escort the witness to the stand."

The courtroom doors opened and an extremely disheveled looking man with a very messy head of hair half ran down the aisle and took his oath on Stephen Hawking's A Brief History of Time_._ He then gazed at the spectators.

"Great Scott!"

"Your Honor, may I introduce the eminent scientist and time-traveler, Dr. Emmett Brown, PhD."

"Awesome," Harry exclaimed. "Loved the steam train!"

"For those of you unfamiliar with Dr. Brown, he invented time-travel back in 1985. Obviously the man is a certifiable genius."

"If he's such a genius, why is he driving a DeLorean?" Riker asked.

"It's spiffy?" Harry surmised. He couldn't quite remember why the scientist drove a DeLorean, but it worked in the movie.

"The type of car he is driving is inconsequential," Kuzak replied. "Can we get to the case?"

"Sure, go ahead." Harry said.

Kuzak faced the befuddled scientist and asked his first question.

"Doctor Brown, you have familiarized yourself with the case and all of the previous testimony?"

"Absolutely!"

"Great. Let's address this time issue, which I believe falls under your expertise. According to the testimony, our plaintiffs have no memory of participating in any events from the time the series ended to the beginning of the _Hogan's Heroes _board on the Fan fiction web site, a period of 28 years. Yet, here they are. How is that possible?"

"Well, first, it wouldn't seem like 28 years to them. Time is relative, you know, always fluid. It was maybe the next day, the next week and it certainly wasn't 1999 or 1971. They're stuck in between 1942 and 1945, for the most part.

"But, Doctor, how do you explain the jump between the episode and the first story?"

"It's possible they ceased to exist, and then were reborn, counselor."

"Are you saying these authors are responsible for their continued existence?"

***cue music***

"I could say that, yes!"

"And what would happen to these characters if the authors stopped writing?"

Brown leaned forward in his seat and stared intently at the attorney and the entire courtroom. "It's hard to say, Counselor. My educated guess is that once the stories have been played out, if there is nothing left, then poof!"

"Poof?"

"Yes. They'll probably fade away, like Marty almost did back in 1955, and cease to exist."

Cries erupted throughout the gallery. "Oh, no. That can't be true. No way. You're insane. Get a haircut!"

Olsen turned around and went back to his blanket. The rest of the soldiers, on both sides, were too numb to speak.

"Order! Order! And no smart-alecky remarks." Harry glared at the spectators.

"Thank you, Doctor Brown. Your witness, Commander."

Riker approached the witness and shook his head. This was an eminent scientist_? Go figure_. "Are you aware that although some of these stories have played out, years and months ago, the side effects have somehow continued to hit the characters, right here in this courtroom?"

"Why, yes I have. It's a shame, a damn shame. Terrible. To have to go through that stuff twice."

"Doctor Brown, do you have any explanation as to why that has occurred?"

"Spillover," Brown replied without hesitation. "You see, initially, the site was not as popular. A story started and ended. There was normally one at a time. Now, there are so many stories at once, and a lot aren't completed. You know, I would hate to see what's going on with the _Harry Potter_ characters. Those poor kids! Or where was I? Right. The stories are competing with one another, actions are mixing, the stories are moving all over the page, plots are beginning to interact, new readers and new writers keep adding to the mix. It's a miracle these boys can remember what war they're in."

"You can say that again," Hogan said sarcastically.

"The defense would have us believe that since these characters were somehow brought back into existence by the defendants, that they can indeed be erased from existence, if the authors stop writing."

"Yes, I believe that's true, Commander."

"Yet, the defense is also saying that the characters aren't real. Yet, here they are. If they aren't real, then how can they be erased? I see no proof of this theory. Do you, Doctor?"

"Wait, Commander, I just said they can be erased or removed from existence. I never said they didn't exist now or they weren't real. You can remove Commander Data from existence, can you not?"

"Well, yes, I can turn him off." Riker shuddered at the memory. It's what got him involved in this mess in the first place.

"But you wouldn't, would you, Sir? He's real to you and to everyone else who knows him? Isn't he your friend?"

"Yes." _Is he switching sides here?_

"He was built, wasn't he? Created? Just like our friends out there?" Brown pointed to the soldiers, who were now paying the utmost attention.

"Hey, isn't Commander Riker supposed to be asking the questions?"

Brown and Riker ignored the catcall from the gallery.

"And what about the guy from the holodeck? Rick, Mick, Dick…"

"Vic?" Riker reminded the scientist.

"Yeah, Vic. Same thing." Reporters hastily looked back at their notes, attempting to retrieve Vic's testimony. "Actually a lot closer," Brown continued. "Metaphysically speaking, that is. He knows he exists. He's real to his friends on the space station."

Mason and Kuzak were now whispering, while defendants attempted to pass notes to the defense team.

"Judge Stone! Objection!"

"Now what, Kuzak?" These high priced L.A. attorneys with their fancy clothes and fancier cars were not on the top of Harry's list.

"This is a hostile witness!"

"Duly noted, Counselor." Stone was wondering if he could convince Doc Brown to get him one of those flying skateboards.

"Where was I?" the scientist panicked for a moment and looked around the courtroom.

"Space station?" Riker was enjoying every moment of this.

Hochstetter crossed Doc Brown's name off of his new list.

"Sir, is this guy switching sides?" LeBeau turned to ask Colonel Hogan the question.

"I don't know, LeBeau. I'm getting too old for this." Hogan sighed.

"You're not too old, Colonel. I love science fiction and I'm pushing, well never mind." Susan reached into her purse. "Here, have a tic-tac. Are you feeling all right?"

Baker approached their bench. "Colonel, there's two American MPs waiting for you in the back of the courtroom."

"Figures." Despite the scientist's intriguing testimony, Hogan was watching his day go from bad to worse.

"I think that's my fault," Susan whispered.

"Never mind,"Hogan said. "I've already been through hell. Wilson was right. I think I am coming down with something. Where's ColHogan?" He looked around for the other friendly defendant.

"Have you had your flu shots?" Susan asked.

**********

"Oh, yeah. Space station." Brown cheered up, as he regained his momentum. "Horton heard a Who. But no one believed him. Not a single one of his animal friends would accept that a real civilization existed on a speck of dust. But they did. They were real. As was your Professor Moriarty, Mr. Riker."

"Go on, please continue." Riker was now overjoyed.

"You had a hologram become sentient, did you not, Commander?"

"Yes, but it was an accident." Riker recalled.

"Of course, it wasn't by design like Mr. Fontaine, but the character did indeed become self-aware, just like our friends out there…" A few of the soldiers let out a cheer.

"Wait a minute, here." This time Mason interrupted. "Who's the witness and who's the attorney?"

"Good point, Mr. Mason." Harry looked sternly at Riker and Doc Brown. "Remember your place, Gentlemen."

"Sorry, Judge." Riker smiled. "Doctor Brown. Can you expand on what you were about to say regarding the self-aware hologram?"

"Of course. He became sentient and your ship provided him with a program of his own and kept it running. You didn't just snuff him out of existence, did you?"

"No, of course not. Anything else?"

"Great Scott!" Brown snapped his fingers. "I have another example."

"Do tell!"

"Mr. Riker, are you familiar with the program _Red Dwarf_?"

"Why yes I am. But please don't suggest I call…"

"Oh, no, please no. Don't call Rimmer to the stand. He's a complete smeghead." Several of the spectators laughed, while a few reporters hastily checked IMDB for a reference. "Arnold Rimmer is a hologram created from a dead human's memories that have been saved on a computer chip," Brown explained. "He has all his memories and original personality. So therefore, he is real, he exists, yet he, too, can be erased, or wiped out, just like that! Poof! But anyone would agree that if that happened, the poor man would die twice."

"I see," Riker said.

"General, what's a smeghead?" Klink turned to Burkhalter.

"I don't know, Klink, but somehow, I think you may fit the description."

"Doctor Brown, you claimed during Mr. Kuzak's questioning that in your opinion, the authors are in fact responsible for the existence of the characters, is that correct?"

"I believe so, yes."

"Do you indeed have any proof of what would happen, if say the authors shut down the site? Would the characters then no longer exist, as you said?"

"That's my theory, Commander, but I honestly can't say if I have proof. After all, it hasn't happened, yet."

Riker was concerned. A cease and desist order may actually cause the characters to fade from existence, if the scientist was correct. But the scientist also seemed to suggest that the characters were real, perhaps new life forms. And if the characters were real, then the abuse was real. Riker decided to quit while he was ahead. There were new questions to consider and a discussion with the plaintiffs was in order. He concluded his questioning.

"So, Doctor Brown. Let me see if I understand you correctly. You claim the authors are responsible for the existence of the characters, that the characters can easily be erased or eliminated, but you also claim that they are sentient beings, that they are real, that they do exist, in which case, they suffer, and I remember you expressed sympathy for their suffering. Did you not?"

"Yes, I did."

"But your theories are just theories. This is all conjecture."

"I did say that, Commander."

"Thank you. That will be all. I may need to recall this witness, Judge."

"Same here," Kuzak added.

"No problemo." Harry was glad to see the questioning come to an end. He was awfully confused. "You can go now, but make sure we can find you again."

"Glad to be of service." Doc Brown took his leave, pausing momentarily to grab whatever garbage he could find to feed his car.

Riker walked over to Hogan. "I think we need to have a talk."

Note: I had started this before Jake and Jordre mentioned "Back to the Future" in one of their chapters.


	2. How to Prove a Point

"How to Prove a Point"

submitted by Snooky

Hogan and Commander Riker thought it best to discuss prosecution strategy back at Stalag 13. It was quieter than the courtroom and was, for now, devoid of defendants, the press, and other unwelcome characters. The two military men sat around Hogan's table in his office, while extras from the upper bunks, as usual, kept watch at the door. Newkirk, LeBeau, Carter, Kinch, and Baker used the opportunity to catch up on their duties, while Wilson waited impatiently in the common room.

Riker laid it out straight. "Colonel, we could have a problem. If anything this scientist said is correct, you and your men are at the mercy of these writers whether you like it or not."

"I'd still like the case to go to the jury." Hogan was still trying to grasp the concepts divulged in Brown's testimony and he was, as expected, having a hard time. "You know, Riker, being told you don't exist, aren't real, did exist, came into existence, could be erased, are real, may be a new life form...It's a lot to handle in one day. Frankly, I'm finding it all a little too much to swallow."

"I understand that, Colonel. But, where I come from, what they've been saying seems plausible. Look, don't you find it a little odd that we are having a trial in 21st century New York City? We've got a judge from a 1980's TV sitcom. I'm from the 24th century, Perry is from a TV show that ran from 1957-1966 and then branched into TV movies. Kuzak is from a 1980's drama. We've had a dog as a witness and a scientist from a movie trilogy. You came up to my ship and got restored. And the defendants? How did they get here? Have you questioned that? They didn't take the A train, that's for sure. Our technology got them here. And they're from all over the place. The States, Canada, Sweden. And how are you guys able to get from the Stalag to here and back again? I know you've had men sneaking out. Well?" Riker stopped talking and looked at Hogan.

"I'd still like the case to go to the jury." Hogan was being stubborn. He felt so abused, that he was almost ready to throw in the towel. But he wasn't a quitter. He knew he had a case. He knew he and his men existed. "I don't care how weird this is, I'm here, you're here and I don't feel well, and I hurt and I'm really getting sick of this." He took off his cap and threw it on the table. "I want compensation and I want a cease and desist order!"

Riker tried to be patient. "We can go to the jury. I think we have a good shot at them finding for the prosecution. There's no doubt you've been abused, and none of these writers, with one exception, have shown any remorse for what they've done. But then what? If they order compensation, what are you going to do with 21st century currency? Besides, they're in the middle of a bad recession. They've all probably lost their shirts anyway. So, it will take years to get the money and you'll all be dead, for real."

"Lovely sentiment," Hogan said sarcastically.

"And," Riker continued. "If it's just compensation, they'll still keep writing. More abuse!"

"Just ducky," Hogan replied. "Cease and desist, then. Make 'em stop. We're not interested in the money anyway."

"Okay, then," Riker countered. "The jury finds in our favor and they issue a cease and desist order. How will we enforce it? They are obviously in a different universe. And then if that's figured out, what if Brown's right? Once all the stories are played out, then what? What if poof is really poof?"

"And if they don't stop writing, what, Riker? More torture, more injuries?" Hogan was trying not to panic. "Riker, is there some way we can test Brown's theory without hurting any of us?"

"I suppose I can go up to the ship. Discuss it with Data, other people. Maybe run a simulation."

"I'm not ready to give up yet. The men are counting on me."

"All right, Colonel. Give me some time. I'll discuss it with our scientists and see what we can come up with. We can keep the trial going." Riker stood up and got ready to call for the transporter.

Hogan looked up and watched Riker shimmer out of existence. He wished he had that technology available. It would have made it a hell of a lot easier to transport escapees back to England. He then swallowed his pride and called for Wilson.

Riker beamed up to the Enterprise and ran the theories past Data and Geordi. They in turn took off for the holodeck and began to program scenarios into the computer. Meanwhile, Riker had a meeting scheduled with Captain Picard regarding his violation of the temporal Prime Directive. He was not looking forward to this.

"Tea, Earl Grey, hot." Picard issued his order and removed the beverage from the replicator. A bell rang, signaling the presence of a visitor. "Come."

Riker entered Picard's ready room. "Captain?"

Picard motioned for Riker to sit down. He then took his seat, had a sip of tea, placed the mug on the table and looked sternly at his first officer. "I'm waiting for an explanation, Will."

"I don't know how the defendants found out, Sir."

"That's immaterial at this point. Whether they guessed, or were told, the cat is now out of the bag and I now have temporal police breathing down my neck. Whatever prompted you to give that Colonel the information?"

"I…"

"Wait, that's not all. What prompted you to ask Mr. Data to retrieve that information in the first place? It was a violation of privacy laws from both of our centuries. Was there a subpoena issued allowing for the release of the passwords?"

"No, Sir, but in all fairness, no harm was done. I guarantee the defendants have changed their passwords by now, and Hogan doesn't have the technology to retrieve them on his own."

Picard took another sip. "No harm was done? I understand the soldiers were able to shut down the fiction site for several days?"

"Actually, there's no proof that they had anything to do with that. I think it was actually a server problem."

Picard continued. "And they hacked into someone's own personal site, a Miss Snooky, I believe."

"Yes, they did do that, but she's okay with it now. In fact, I still think she could turn."

"Will, answer my first question."

"At the hearings, Mason got everyone's emotions going when he brought up the character development. I wasn't confident we would be continuing. I needed to help these guys. They were in such bad shape. I'm sorry, Sir. It was a lapse of judgment on my part. I'll take the fall."

"Yes, Commander, I'm afraid you will. You'll be answering to the temporal police after the trial."

"Yes, Sir."

"Now, bring me up to date on how the trial is going."

************

"No, Sir, I won't let you do it."

"Wilson, these defendants have never actually seen the full consequences of their writing. They've only seen the aftermath and side-effects." Hogan was pacing back and forth in his office. Wilson had come in to check on the Colonel, and decided that for now, stress was as much of a problem as the possible flu-like symptoms that had been plaguing the officer recently.

"Colonel, if you go through with this, how do you know you'll bounce back?"

"We've bounced back every time. Can't think of why that would change. Wilson, tell the men to come in." Hogan motioned for the door and waited impatiently for the rest of his staff to gather round.

"He's gone off the deep end." Wilson whispered to Kinch.

"What's going on, Sir?"

"Kinch, remember the hearings, how bad I was before Riker had me fixed up?"

"Yes, Sir. You could barely walk."

"The defendants weren't there. They didn't see Carter unconscious on the bench. They didn't see me pass out in the witness chair."

"My appendix attack," LeBeau reminded everyone.

"That's right." Hogan said. "Sure, they're seeing stuff now, but it was a lot worse then. This trial has slowed things down."

"Except for poor Olsen, Sir." Carter glanced towards the common room.

"Yeah, right. Well he's an exception. Can't blame him." Hogan made a mental note to talk to the Sergeant after the meeting. "We've got to get him some help."

"What are you getting at, Colonel?" Newkirk asked. "Give them a taste of their own medicine?"

"I wouldn't do that, not yet. Two wrongs don't make a right." _I'm not an eye-for-eye kind of guy_, Hogan thought, _especially when it comes to women._

"No, I'm willing to sacrifice myself to prove a point." Hogan waited for the cacophony of protests.

"I'm not getting what you mean, Colonel," Carter was confused.

Wilson replied to the men directly. "I do and I definitely don't like it. Go on, tell them, Colonel. I'll bet they'll agree with me."

The four other men quieted down and looked at the Colonel.

"I want the defendants and the jury to see the real effects of the writing. And I propose to do that by initiating a story that will take place in the courtroom. Something dramatic that will get their attention. Something that shows the actual incident, not just side effects."

"But, sacrifice yourself, Colonel? With what? An illness, a gunshot?" LeBeau was ready to volunteer. "I'll be the guinea pig, if it means we can stop this once and for all."

"No," Wilson interjected. "Like I said, he doesn't mean that. He means something worse."

"Absolutely not." Kinch protested. "This is nuts, sorry, Sir. But it's nuts. How can you be sure it wouldn't be permanent?"

"I can't." Hogan went over to his desk and removed some pads of paper. He started handing them out, along with some pencils, to his men. "But, so far, we've always come back to life. I'm willing to bet it will happen again. Here, we need to put our heads together and come up with a plausible story line."

The men still weren't buying it and they continued to argue. Next it was Newkirk to volunteer. "I'll do it, Sir. You've been through enough." The rest of the crew murmured in agreement, all save Wilson, who was still adamantly against anything even approaching a sacrifice.

The medic continued to argue. "I don't want you or anyone else writing in even a hangnail. I don't trust this system and I'm not going to be the one to declare someone dead!"

"Sorry, Wilson." Hogan had made his decision and he was sticking by it. "The mission's a go and I'm the guinea pig." The men protested again. "That's an order. Start writing!"

"How do you plan on getting this story into the system, and how can we be sure it will show up in the courtroom, Colonel?"

"We'll do what we did before, Kinch." Hogan pulled down a map of the courtroom. "We'll sneak out of here tonight, break into the courthouse, then break into the library and use one of their computers. We saw how to get on the site when we had Snooky's computer. In fact, we can even set up our own password and screen name. We'll type in and load up the story, and then, if I've figured this thing out right, when court resumes tomorrow, hopefully, it will hit."

"And then the authors will see what they have wrought for real," Carter whispered.

"I still think it would be better to do it to them," LeBeau muttered.

"Let me see your ideas. What have we got?" Hogan took the men's pads. "Oh, come on. A heart attack? That's not very dramatic. Besides, that would hurt. SS comes in to arrest everyone and starts shooting when I protest. Not bad, but someone else could get hit. Deadly disease? Yeech. Wild bear attack? Carter!" He threw the paper back. "Here, try again. Not good enough."

Wilson initially refused to participate. He sat there positively steaming, watching the oncoming disaster take shape. However, he finally realized he would not be able to talk the Colonel out of taking part in this insanity. "Here, give me that." He grabbed a pad and started writing. "If you insist on going through with this, this is the way to make it easier for you. You want to drag it out to get more sympathy. You don't need smoke and mirrors, either. That will only take attention away from you." He jotted down a few more sentences and handed the pad to the Colonel.

Hogan glanced at the medic's notes. "Yes, Wilson, you're a genius. This is perfect. All right. Let's make this into a story and get this operation started."


	3. Scenario Gone Awry

"A Scenario Gone Awry"

submitted by Bits and Pieces, ColHogan and Snooky

Court started right on time the following morning. Harry and Bull took their respective spots in the front. Today, Harry had snuck in a Lite Brite and was attempting to do his own little bit of court artistry. A good night's sleep seemed to have calmed everyone down. The riff-raff watching from the gallery was polite, the Germans were ignoring each other and keeping a less than wary eye on the Allies. The defendant's were, as usual, seated at the side and were comparing notes from the day before. ColHogan and Snooky were unfortunately relegated to the defendants' seats this morning. "We're working on a classified mission," they were told.

Riker had beamed back down from the Enterprise, without good news. So far, every scenario run through the holodeck by Data and Geordi had come up empty. Hogan and company would cease to exist if the authors stopped posting and the site was shut down. He told the Colonel that his crew was still working on the problem. There were no other observers from the Enterprise in court that morning. They had all been called back up to the ship to handle various problems that had suddenly and inexplicably cropped up.

Meanwhile, Mason, Kuzak and the rest of the defense team were still reeling from the twists and turns revealed during Doc Brown's testimony. Half of them didn't understand it, while the rest were positive it had unfortunately leaned towards the prosecution side.

Riker needed to show that the stories impacted the rest of the camp population. He had been planning on calling Sergeant Olsen to the stand, but the soldier was still too emotionally battered to testify. A Private currently residing in Barracks 13 was willing to take Olsen's place. The Private took his oath on a copy of the Articles of War and settled into the witness chair. Riker began his questioning but not before noticing the nervous looks and tics occurring over at the plaintiffs' side of the courtroom. He shrugged it off and approached the witness.

"Private, can you give me some idea of how these stories have impacted the rest of the camp?"

"Yes, Sir. So far, we've had riots, malnutrition, a pneumonia epidemic, a forced march, overcrowding, mass escapes and several other catastrophes."

"So, although the impact generally falls on the major characters, residual effects take their toll on the rest of you?"

The Private had been well coached. "Yes, Sir," he answered calmly. "We're usually just minding the store, so to speak, and then something happens. A few weeks ago, we all had to leave camp, lickedy split, but not before fighting some SS guys. A few of my buddies got killed." His eyes teared up.

"What would you say to these authors…" Riker stopped in mid-sentence as a thought popped up in his mind. He didn't know where it came from, but for some reason he needed to see Harry in the judge's chambers. He looked over at Harry. "Your honor, could we have a five minute recess?"

Harry banged his gavel to stop the proceedings and looked over his desk. "Everybody take five." He said, climbing down and following Riker out of the courtroom.

************

To his surprise, Hochstetter suddenly found himself in possession of a gun. He had no idea how he came to find it in his pocket, but he was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Still seething over the humiliation he had suffered on the Enterprise, he vowed to take revenge once and for all. He snuck a quick glance over at the man he blamed for everything…Hogan. The Colonel was sitting in between his men, his arms folded over that blasted jacket. Everything the agent had done to catch the spy since the hearings began had failed. Evidence went missing as soon as they got back to Germany. Details heard at the trial mysteriously disappeared from his, Klink's and Burkhalter's memories. Hochstetter excused himself and walked to the back of the courtroom, but instead of leaving, he continued down the aisle next to the wall. Defendants shied away from him as he passed. Hogan was sitting in the front row to his right. It seemed like they knew he was coming but did not act. He shrugged that oddity aside and kept going.

"Why is he coming over here?" Snooky asked ColHogan. "He makes me nervous." The two women were seated directly opposite the plaintiff's bench.

Hochstetter stopped directly in front of Hogan. The Colonel stood up. "Something I can do for you, Major?" Hogan asked innocently.

The Gestapo agent started to reach for the gun in his pocket, but not before several of the authors noticed the glistening of metal. As he grabbed for the weapon, both ColHogan and Snooky jumped up and shouted a warning. Without thinking, they headed for the bench. Seeing their plans now about to go up in smoke, Newkirk and LeBeau yelled at everyone to get down, while the Colonel tried to push the women out of the way. Bull started to head towards Hochstetter who turned and fired at the two authors. He then got off another shot, missing the Colonel, but hitting one of the other prisoners before being tackled by the bailiff.

Janet saw the whole scene unfold before her from her position behind the stenographer's desk. She watched in horror as her two co-authors both fell to the floor, wounded. Then, without thinking, she jumped up and ran over to them, but Newkirk stepped in front of her, blocking her path while Bull got Hochstetter under control. Janet looked at the Englishman, realizing that he was trying to protect her, and suddenly felt real remorse for what she'd put him through in her stories. As Bull led Hochstetter away, Newkirk stepped aside to let Janet through. Then he went over and knelt down next to Snooky. Janet picked a spot between her two friends, and, plopping down on the floor, she grabbed one of Snooky's hands, and then one of ColHogan's, and started to talk to them, reassuringly.

While numerous spectators were now dialing 911, Bull, who had turned the Gestapo agent over to security, frantically went in search of Riker and Harry, almost crashing into them as they came running back into the courtroom. Upon seeing the carnage, Riker frantically tried to call for medical assistance from his ship. Wilson, Klink, Schultz, Bull, the Judge and several of Hogan's men rushed over to the three people lying on the floor. All had been hit. LeBeau had fainted at the sight, while Hogan stood frozen in a trance.

The stunned defendants reacted in various ways. Some started to cry. Others were too upset or stunned to speak. Several rushed over to lend assistance to their two fallen comrades. Riker, the anger showing on his face, approached them, demanding to know who had submitted this ill-fated chapter. Finally, Hogan recovered from his shock and hurried over. Wilson was attempting to triage the injured. The prisoner's wounds were serious, but not life-threatening. He then started to treat the two authors.

"Oh, my God, Joe, what have we done?" Hogan looked at the two women. He knelt down between them, beside the medic, and noted with despair that their injuries appeared serious, very serious. Newkirk was cradling Snooky's head in his lap, while Janet was still holding the two authors' hands. Hogan reached over, and she loosened her grip, letting the Colonel take their hands. He grasped them firmly, giving each a gentle squeeze. Janet looked up at Hogan and Wilson worriedly.

Riker had heard Hogan's anguished reaction and vaguely wondered if the Colonel felt guilty about getting close to the two women. But something nagged him about the whole scenario. It appeared that the Colonel and his men had dropped the ball. Why did two civilians notice the gun and react before the soldiers? Did the prisoners know what was coming and if so, why did they do nothing to stop Hochstetter? These thoughts ran through Riker's head as he and the Judge tried to regain control of the courtroom.

Harry ordered the bailiffs to clear the gallery and watch for the ambulances. Mason, Kuzak and the rest of the defense team joined the authors in their vigil. Harry then pointed to a police officer. "You, find out how he smuggled that gun in here."

"How are they doing, Sergeant?" The crowd separated to let the Judge through.

"The private will recover, but these two are touch and go." Wilson, with help from Kinch, was attempting to stop the bleeding.

Hogan was still tightly grasping the hands of the two stricken women. He kept repeating, "I'm so sorry," over and over again.

Janet had moved to the other side of ColHogan, and had placed one of the prisoner's jackets under her friend's head to make her more comfortable.

A few of the other authors were speculating as to how the tragedy had occurred. "Maybe Hochstetter planned it himself."

"But how did he get the gun in here?"

"Someone wrote it," another author said confidently. "Someone new. It's probably at the top of the page."

Hearing this, Harry ordered Bull to pull up the first story and have the author traced.

"Here it is, Sir. A new story with one chapter, written by someone named George. I'll start tracing the e-mail."

The sound of the ambulance sirens could now be heard.

"Why," Hogan asked. "Why did you two get in the way?"

"I told you, I didn't know," Snooky could barely speak. "I was sorry." That was all she could get out.

ColHogan's eyes fluttered open. "I couldn't let Hochstetter shoot you, I just couldn't…" And then she lapsed into unconsciousness.

"She's not breathing!" Wilson started chest compressions, while Hogan, strangely recalling his resuscitation by LeBeau in "The Dark Menace," began mouth-to-mouth. They paused while Wilson listened. "Not working, Colonel. Keep going! Hogan again attempted mouth-to-mouth, while Wilson continued with the chest compressions. Finally, after several agonizing minutes, ColHogan's breathing resumed.

Just then the ambulances arrived. The paramedics rushed into the courtroom and made a beeline for the three wounded victims. They brought in stretchers, and after stabilizing the two women, prepared them for transport to the hospital.

Hogan watched the activity, almost beside himself with grief that these two brave ladies had each taken a bullet for him. How could he ever repay them? But, what if they…no, he couldn't think that right now. They had to make it, they just had to! He looked over at his men. Newkirk was still sobbing quietly, Kinch was shaking, LeBeau had been revived by a fellow prisoner, and had moved to the back of the courtroom, and Carter's expression kept switching between looking terrified and devastated.

As the paramedics finished getting Snooky and ColHogan ready, Janet piped up, "If you don't mind, I'd like to go with them to the hospital."

"That's fine," one of them told her, "Just follow us." Then they wheeled the stretchers out to their waiting emergency vehicles, Janet following closely behind.

As soon as they were gone, Riker approached Hogan, and without a word, motioned to the Colonel to follow him. He led him back to Harry's office, closing and locking the door once they were both inside. Then Riker went over to Hogan and picked a spot directly in front of him. The two officers just stood there, staring at each other for several seconds.

Riker was the first one to speak. "You're responsible for this." This was a statement, not a question.

Hogan was too distraught to say anything. He just nodded.

"You're George?" Riker asked.

"Yes, Hochstetter was supposed to shoot me."

Riker was trying to remain calm. "Why?"

"We wanted them to see real blood. Get a look at the real consequences of their writing. They had no sympathy, even up on the Enterprise. It's as if we were just punching bags set up for their amusement."

"So you wrote a chapter, posted it, and ended up hurting two of the women who were actually concerned about you."

Hogan nodded. "We had no idea they would see the gun."

"You all knew? Your men, Wilson?"

"I ordered it," Hogan acknowledged.

"How did you get to a computer, never mind." Riker started to pace. "We have to fix this."

They both noticed the laptop sitting on Harry's desk.

"Rewrite the chapter, Colonel. Delete the original and post a rewrite."

"What?"

"It's a chance to fix this, or I don't know what will happen. They're tracing the story right now. Do it," Riker ordered, "Or I'll have to go to the Judge and Mason." Riker opened up the laptop, quickly figured out the Judge's password (tormerocks) and navigated to the Fan fiction site. He pushed Hogan down into the chair and ordered him to start typing.

"If this works," Hogan asked, "Won't they all remember what happened?"

"No," Riker said. "You're deleting the original. The new one will overwrite their memories. Only you'll remember._ I hope. "_Fix my communicator_. A_nd don't try any funny business. Now, get going!"

"Okay, okay!" Hogan looked at the computer screen and started typing. He stopped after a few lines, and leaned in, squinting at the screen. "Hey, Riker, I can't figure out this part right here." He waved the Commander over to take a look.

"What part?" Riker asked, approaching Hogan to see what was confusing him. He switched seats with the Colonel.

As soon as Riker sat down, Hogan crept in back of the Starfleet officer and in one fell swoop knocked him unconscious with a well-placed karate chop. Riker went limp. Hogan carefully lowered him to the ground and then went back to the computer.

_All right, we're gonna do this my way! _Hogan thought as he erased the few lines he had there, and started over. _We're gonna rerun the scenario, and get it right this time! _


	4. Try, Try, Again

"Try, Try Again"

submitted by Bits and Pieces, ColHogan and Snooky

To his surprise, Hochstetter suddenly found himself in possession of a gun. He had no idea how he came to find it in his pocket, but he was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Still seething over the humiliation he had suffered on the Enterprise, he vowed to take revenge once and for all. He snuck a quick glance over at the man he blamed for everything, Hogan. The Colonel was sitting in between two of his men, his arms folded over that blasted jacket. Everything the agent had done to catch the spy since the hearings began had failed. Evidence went missing as soon as they got back to Germany. Details heard at the trial mysteriously disappeared from his, Klink's and Burkhalter's memories. Hochstetter excused himself and walked to the back of the courtroom, but instead of leaving, he continued down the aisle next to the wall. He noticed two of the authors sitting directly opposite the plaintiffs' bench. His trained eye took note that four of Hogan's men were protecting the women, although to the authors it would have appeared that they were just blocking their vision. Defendants shied away from him as he passed. Hogan was sitting in the front row to his right. It seemed like they knew he was coming but did not act. He shrugged that oddity aside and stopped directly in front of the Colonel. Hogan stood up and innocently asked if he could do something to help the Major.

"No, Colonel." The courtroom then watched in horror as Hochstetter, shouting, "This is for your crimes against the Third Reich!" fired his weapon. The first bullet hit Hogan squarely in the chest. The second hit near the stomach. Unlike his fake execution, Hogan realized in his last moments, that this hurt. He dropped like a sack of potatoes. Before he was tackled, Hochstetter fired another round, barely missing Wilson.

Pandemonium erupted as soldiers from both sides rushed to assist the injured Colonel. Strangely, the defendants, watching the drama unfold right in front of them, remained frozen in their seats, unable to participate but forced to observe.

For the second time in recent weeks, Newkirk found himself holding his dying commander's head in his lap. This time, however, he knew the shot would be fatal. Wilson knelt next to Hogan, and instinctively attempted to stop the bleeding.

Newkirk looked up and could see ColHogan and Snooky forcing their way through the crowd. They rushed over to Hogan, took his hands and tried to comfort the fallen officer.

Knowing that Dr. Crusher had been called back up to the Enterprise, Riker attempted to call for assistance. For some reason, his communicator would not work and he could not reach the ship. He gave up and rushed over to the authors who were staring in alarm at the bloody tableau. "Who wrote this? Which one of you did this?" Shocked out their stupor, they all denied ownership of the horrific chapter.

"It worked, Newkirk." Hogan managed to utter.

"Yes, Sir." Newkirk was still cradling his head. No one was bothering to help the Colonel, who was a bloody mess. There was no point.

"Sir, it's all right." Carter was sobbing. All he could think to do was gently stroke his Colonel's dark hair. Carter saw Hogan's head fall to the side and knew his Colonel was dead.

Newkirk shook his head and closed his C.O.s eyes. There was nothing anyone could do.

ColHogan and Snooky were still holding Hogan's hands tightly in their own when they felt him go limp. Both women knew at that precise moment that Hogan was dead even before seeing Newkirk close his C.O.'s eyes and lower his own head, unashamedly letting the tears roll down his cheeks. He glanced over at Carter who was beside himself with grief, and put a hand on the young sergeant's shoulder. Carter was still stroking Hogan's hair, somehow hoping by continuing to do this it would somehow reverse Hogan's death. It was as the realization began to sink in that Colonel Hogan was indeed dead, Snooky and ColHogan slowly lowered the hand each was holding and carefully laid them at his sides. Tears were running down their own cheeks as the two women looked at each other, each too stunned at what had transpired to move. They looked at the deceased officer's face and marveled how peaceful he looked; almost as if he were asleep. That was before they saw the blood, and the stark reality of the truth slapped both of them across the face.

"Who wrote this tragedy," ColHogan whispered in a shaky voice looking at her friend, anger flashing in her eyes. "How could someone do this? The Colonel didn't deserve this."

Snooky shook her head. She sighed as she wiped at her eyes with her hand. "Whoever it was must be new to the site. I can't believe one of us could do something so despicable as this. It was probably that Hochstetter who wrote it. He always hated Hogan." She glanced at Newkirk who was still seated beside her on the floor. He had since laid the Colonel's head carefully on the floor. He was, as she was, still numbed by grief. The only thing she could think to do to comfort the Englander was shift her position on the floor and wrap her arms around Newkirk who buried his face in her shoulder and sobbed uncontrollably. She held him tightly and ran a hand over his back in a circular motion as a means of comforting him the only way she knew how. But despite attempting to comfort Newkirk, Snooky's own tears continued to fall. But all that mattered now was Newkirk.

ColHogan slid over to where Carter was kneeling beside his commanding officer's body and put a hand gently on his shoulder. Carter, his hand now resting on Hogan's dark hair, turned his tear-stained face towards her and the two looked at each other. Carter's expression reminded her of a small child lost, bewildered and frightened, and desperately wanting one of his parents.

"Why did he have to do it?" Carter asked. "He didn't have to do it."

ColHogan, thinking Carter was referring to the Gestapo Major, put her arms around Carter and held him close as he continued to sob. She attempted to comfort the young sergeant knowing from the TV show and fanfic writings that Carter worshipped the Colonel and would be the one most affected by his death. She slowly began to rock him hoping it would bring some comfort to him, at least in some small way. Meanwhile, her own tears continued to roll down her cheeks as she quietly mourned the death of the Colonel.

Looking up, she noticed Kinch, with tears streaming down his cheeks, kneel down and rest a hand on Hogan's shoulder and say a short prayer, crossing himself before standing up again and, moving aside to allow LeBeau to pass, sat down on a nearby bench. LeBeau, although feeling faint, slowly approached and focused on the serene expression on his commanding officer's face so that he wouldn't have to see the blood, and there was a lot of it, mostly on the body. He closed his eyes as the tears fell down his face "Farewell, mon Colonel," he said softly. "It was an honor serving with you. I will never forget you." Then, he stood at attention and gave Hogan his smartest salute before collapsing on the bench beside Kinch, and covered his face with both hands, sobbing. Kinch pulled LeBeau close to him and held the little Frenchman's shaking body against him trying to comfort him while his own emotions spilled over unchecked.

Wilson sat alone several seats away from where Kinch and LeBeau were seated. He didn't even try to wipe away the tears that continued to spill down his cheeks. He still couldn't believe the Colonel had died. It just wasn't possible. He couldn't allow himself to accept the reality. And he rebuffed any and all offers to console him. He just wanted to be left alone.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. He realized with the dangerous work the Colonel and his men did, there was always that chance someone could be killed. And he also knew there was always the chance the operation could have been discovered. And if that was the case, the firing squad was a definite.

But this? Gunned down like an animal by that despicable Gestapo agent, Major Wolfgang Hochstetter, with no provocation; no warning; no anything. Wilson believed that Colonel Robert Hogan deserved better than he got. And although Wilson had come up with the idea for the scenario that resulted in Hogan's demise, it didn't make it easier to witness or accept when it actually happened in front of him.

Wilson felt his heart leap into his throat as each bullet struck the Colonel. And the blood; so much blood. He knew there would be a lot of bleeding, but he didn't expect as much blood as there was. The camp medic cursed his limited skills as a healer. Maybe if he had more training he might have....no. The bullet had struck Hogan in the center of the chest, in the area of his heart. Wilson suspected, without an autopsy, that the aorta was probably severed because Hogan died within minutes and the severing of the aorta would cause the Colonel to bleed to death within minutes as he had. Of course there would be no autopsy in this case. At least Wilson hoped there wouldn't be a need for one. Sighing wearily and with his shoulders sagging, Wilson buried his face in his hands and sobbed over the needless death of a man he considered more of a friend than his commanding officer.

Riker slouched in his chair at the prosecutor's table, pinching the bridge of his nose, tears staining his face, his eyes red, swollen and red from crying. He was still in a state of disbelief from the scene which had greeted both himself and Judge Stone when they raced from the judge's chambers after hearing the gunshots and the panicked screams of people in the courtroom. He still couldn't believe it. Colonel Robert Hogan dead. Shot to death right in the courtroom during the five-minute recess he had asked for. If he hadn't asked for that recess he would've been in the courtroom when Hochstetter made his murderous move on the Colonel. He would've been able to stop him.

"Oh, God!" Riker muttered under his breath as he rubbed his face with both hands. _If I just hadn't asked for that damn five-minute recess, _he thought. Letting out the deep breath he didn't realize he was holding, Riker leaned back in his chair. Hogan had been his key witness in this case. What would happen now? How could the case proceed without his key witness? After all, despite various injuries having happened to the men, the majority of the injuries and/or illnesses happened to Colonel Hogan. Riker figured he could ask for a continuance given the circumstances and probably get it.

Right now Riker would give anything to seek solace in the arms of Deanna Troi. To be able to pour out his grief and sadness to the ship's Counselor. To hold her in his arms and allow her to help ease the grief and pain washing over him in huge waves, drowning him; even if only temporarily. But with his communicator not functioning for some strange reason, he couldn't even hear her voice. He couldn't even go to Ten Forward and have a drink to be able to drown his grief and pain. Then Riker remembered there was a bar across the street from the courthouse. He got up and briskly walked out of the courtroom and out of the building and across the street.

Very few things stunned Perry Mason or at least caught him off-guard. But this incident had done both. He had been sitting at the defense table going over some notes during the five-minute recess asked for by Riker and granted by the judge. He secretly was wondering what the Commander was up to now. Mason couldn't even venture a guess and figured he would have to wait and see.

It was while he had been reviewing his notes that out of the corner of his eye he had noticed the Gestapo Major slowly making his way to where Colonel Hogan was sitting with his men. Nothing had seemed unusual at that moment. But considering the history between the Colonel and the Major, Mason couldn't be certain something wasn't up. Yet, he didn't pay that much attention to Hochstetter. Then he heard the Major scream at the American officer and looked up in time to see Hochstetter point a gun at Hogan and fire twice; striking the Colonel both times. Mason sat stunned and frozen in place for a long moment as women began screaming and pandemonium broke out. Hochstetter had aimed his gun and prepared to fire at Hogan again but by then he had been tackled by the Bailiff; yet managed to get off a third shot that thankfully didn't strike anybody. Mason came to his senses as Riker and Harry both came racing from the judge's chambers. Mason was the first to reach the scene and the sight which met his eyes sickened him. Hogan, covered in blood, lay on the floor, his head being cradled by one of his men while another gently stroked the Colonel's hair. But Mason suspected the injuries were serious, very serious. He could only watch as Wilson attempted to stem the bleeding and the look on the medic's face said it all. There was nothing to be done.

Mason felt as if he had been kicked in the gut. Even though he didn't know the American Colonel or any of the others that well, he never wanted this. And deep down, he could only hope none of his defendants were responsible for writing this tragic scenario. If one of them was, that person may have irreparably damaged their case. Mason wanted to win, but not like this. Not with the death of Colonel Hogan. Despite the fact that Hogan was one of the plaintiffs, Mason grew to respect the officer and even admire him and what he stood for.

The lawyer was saying a silent prayer that the Colonel would be all right when he saw his body go limp. He knew right away Hogan had died. He watched as two of his defendants, who earlier had been trying to comfort the dying man, now attempt to comfort two of Hogan's men, Newkirk and Carter, while Kinch comforted the Frenchman. Mason bowed his head and sadly shook it. He wouldn't object to a continuance being granted. For it was at a time like this when there were no plaintiffs or defendants; just people brought together by tragedy.

Judge Stone had a delayed reaction to the events that occurred that morning. After rushing out of his chambers, his adrenalin kicked in, and he quickly took control of the courtroom. His main focus became the safety of the civilians in the area, and the protection of the crime scene. The police in the building had heard the gunshots and had quickly entered the room. Harry ordered them to investigate how Hochstetter had managed to sneak a gun into the building. They immediately took control of the perpetrator and, despite his protests, whisked him away.

Thinking that the scene may have been orchestrated by a writer, Harry then ordered Bull to pull up the fan fiction site and forward the latest chapters posted to the detectives now in charge of the crime scene. He turned his attention to the other writers. A few were hysterical and several were numb. Janet, his court stenographer, had left her desk, and was attempting to console some of them, although she herself had to continually wipe away the tears that kept dampening her own face. Unfortunately, he had to warn them to stay where they were, as all of them would have to be questioned. The prisoners and the German officers and guards were also asked to remain in the room. It wasn't until the detectives took over, that Harry, after a quick glance at the poor Colonel's body, left the area and locked himself in his chambers. He then began to shake uncontrollably. Taking a few deep breaths, he pulled himself together, left through the other door and headed to the bar across the street, where, to no surprise, he found Riker and Mason sharing a table. They looked up at the Judge and motioned for him to join them. Tears then began to fall down the young Judge's cheeks as he could not get the picture of the character he had loved as a child, lying there, dead on the floor.


	5. The Aftermath

The Aftermath

submitted by Bits and Pieces, ColHogan and Snooky

It was a subdued and somber crowd that took their seats in the courtroom the next morning. Defendants, still in shock over witnessing an actual character death, were unusually solemn. Spectators and the jury quietly took their seats. The defense and prosecution teams conferred with others by the witness chair. Janet, who was still assisting with the court stenography, was now dressed in black. She entered the courtroom and comforted ColHogan and Snooky, the last two defendants to have contact with the dead Colonel. The area where the shooting had occurred had been scrubbed clean and fortunately showed no evidence of the previous day's carnage. No one had any clue as to what would happen. Would the previous storyline be completed, leaving the characters back where they started, ready to begin a new day, or would this ending be permanent?

The fate of the perpetrator of the dastardly deed, Major Hochstetter, was still up in the air. Detectives had worked all afternoon and evening in their quest to find the author of the chapter. It was finally determined that the chapter had been posted on one of the court library computers. Unfortunately, it was discovered that security cameras throughout the courthouse had been covered, leaving no visual evidence of the hacker. Given the fact that the Major had managed to sneak a gun past security, it was looking more and more likely that the Major had written and posted the chapter. He was arrested and placed in confinement until thorny jurisdiction issues could be solved. Major Hochstetter spent the night in jail, protesting continuously that the gun had mysteriously appeared out of nowhere, and that everything had been orchestrated by Colonel Hogan, the most dangerous man in Germany. The arraignment Judge easily dismissed this excuse and threatened to throw away the key. After all, how would a group of prisoners be able to leave their Stalag, sneak into a library, post a chapter, and then sneak back into the Stalag? To quote a famous line from a famous movie; "Inconceivable." (1)

Judge Harry morosely took his seat in the front of the room, and lackadaisically let the gavel drop. "Bull, start the session." He then noticed that the plaintiffs' benches were totally empty. Both the Germans and Allies had not yet arrived. "Where are the plaintiffs, Commander Riker?"

"Late," he replied. "I just got word that they're on their way." He sighed and flopped down in his chair.

"And?"

"Sorry, Judge?"

"And, Commander? Any news?"

"They said nothing."

*********

Eventually, the crime scene had been cleared, and the previous night, Colonel Hogan's body was sent back to Stalag 13 with the prisoners. The five men privy to the scheme carried the Colonel into his office and gently placed him on the bottom bunk. They then had to face the task of notifying the rest of the camp that their leader was dead.

General Burkhalter stayed behind to arrange for Hochstetter's counsel and extradition, all the while hoping that the public defender assigned to the case would be a kid right out of law school. Colonel Klink accompanied the prisoners back to the stalag, instructed Sergeant Kinchloe to prepare for a funeral, and then returned to his quarters and drank himself into a stupor.

Wilson returned to his barracks, while the other four conspirators sat around the table speculating and trying not to voice their apprehension. They had been through this scenario too many times to count. A prisoner, usually the Colonel, but sometimes one of them, would be killed. This would be followed by a horrible period of shock and mourning. Then they would need an explanation to give to Klink; normally a cave-in or an attempted escape gone wrong would suffice. A few times, all of them were killed. Then, the story would be complete and the nightmarish cycle would begin again. All of the men in the camp spent a restless night, but none more so than the residents of Barracks two. The only thing on their minds was what they would find in the morning; a dead Colonel, or a repeat of previous scenarios.

Hogan woke up the next morning feeling like he had been hit by a truck. This was not unusual. He attempted to get up off of the bunk, but quickly fell back down, letting out a large moan and some language not suitable for publication. His second attempt was slightly more successful. This time, he managed to sit up. Holding on to the bunk for support, he stood up and staggered over to the desk, grabbing a hold of the chair in the nick of time.

Carter had fallen asleep at the table and woke up the next morning with a killer headache. It took several seconds for him to recall the events of the day before, but when he did, he quickly roused the rest of the barracks. No one wanted to be the first one to check to see if Hogan was alive or dead. Then they heard the moan. They all ran towards Hogan's office, stopped and then hesitantly opened the door. Hogan looked up at his men and asked, "What the hell happened?" This was not unusual. Confusion and amnesia was a normal, but temporary side-effect of this type of scenario. The men helped the Colonel out into the common room, poured him a cup of coffee, gave him some aspirin and jogged his memory. It took a while, but Hogan was finally able to recall all of the events down to the last detail.

"So, tell me. What did the authors do? Did they say anything? How did they react?" That was the whole purpose of this sorry exercise. Hogan hoped the authors would at least have some sympathetic reaction.

"Well, Sir." Kinch tried to recall the scenario. "ColHogan and Snooky were really upset. They came running over and held your hands."

"Yeah," Hogan recalled. "I think I remember that. And…?"

"And I also noticed some authors weeping on the other side of the room. It looked like Janet was trying to comfort them, but she was sobbing pretty hard, herself. And several authors went over to comfort the other prisoners."

"Anything else?"

"Oui, mon Colonel. There were a few people who just sat there, looking bored and disinterested. I remember thinking, 'How could they be so callous?'" LeBeau shook his head, looking hurt and confused.

Newkirk appeared to be thinking it over. "Maybe they're the ones, what think we don't exist, so what 'appened yesterday wasn't real."

"It felt pretty darn real to me!" Hogan exclaimed.

Just then Wilson entered the barracks, and was overcome with relief to see Hogan sitting at the table with his men. "Colonel, it's great to see you!" He exclaimed, and then added, "I better check you over before we head back to the courthouse."

"I'm fine, Wilson," Hogan automatically answered. "I don't need a check-up."

Wilson let out an exasperated sigh. "I'll be the judge of that, Colonel. You should know by now that I won't take 'No' for an answer."

Hogan sighed in return. "All right, but make it fast. We can use my office." He got up and was about to head to his quarters, when he turned back to look at his men. "Say, you never told me what happened to Hochstetter."

"He got arrested by the local police." Kinch was the first to answer. "The last time I saw him, they were hauling him off to jail."

"Oui, mon Colonel," LeBeau added, "And he didn't look too happy about it, either!"

"He'd 'ave been less happy if I'd gotten me hands on him!" Newkirk smiled at the thought.

Hogan smiled back. "Then it's a good thing for him I posted that chapter as complete." He remarked, and then turned and headed to his office, where Wilson was already waiting for him by the door. As soon as Wilson had looked him over, and was relatively satisfied, they went back to join the main group in the barracks, and left for the courthouse.

Everyone held their breath as the two doors in the back of the courtroom opened. Klink and Burkhalter entered first, followed by about a dozen prisoners. Next, in walked Hogan's staff. Hogan, Wilson and the two guards rounded out the parade. At first you could hear a pin drop as yesterday's dead Colonel strode towards the front, very much alive. Then an, "Oh, my God, he's alive!" rang out from one of the authors. A few hugged one another in relief, while one looked up, not at all surprised, and shrugged her shoulders. Hogan continued walking, slowly, but with determination. He was searching for something and then he stopped. The two women who had shown so much compassion stood silent, tears of relief rolling down their faces. "I remember." Hogan whispered. He embraced both of them for several seconds and then took his customary seat down in front on the plaintiff's side of the court.

He turned and whispered something to Newkirk who briefly looked around before turning back to his commanding officer and nodding. Turning again, Hogan pointed to both women and motioned for them to join them. ColHogan sat beside the Colonel while Newkirk moved over one seat, which allowed Snooky to sit between him and LeBeau. Looking up at the woman beside him, the Frenchman noticed Snooky wink at him with a smile. LeBeau felt himself blush.

Meanwhile, Hogan appeared lost in thought. He couldn't forget the conversation he and Wilson had while enroute to court. He looked at the woman seated beside him and recalled vividly the harm he had done to both women when they each took a bullet for him. He recalled the looks of anguish on the faces of both women when they tried to comfort him as he lay dying. He had also heard from Carter and Newkirk how these same women comforted them after his 'death.' He pinched the bridge of his nose as Wilson's words echoed in his mind over and over.

'You caused major trauma to these other people, Colonel. Major trauma and distress. You could have even caused permanent damage to some. Especially to these two women who seem to care what happens to you. So let me leave you with this thought, Colonel. I hope you got what you wanted from this experiment of yours, because in your own way, you did exactly what you're accusing these authors of doing. So I hope it was worth it to you.'

Hogan massaged his temple. When he got down to it, Wilson had been right. He had been so intent on giving these authors a dose of their own medicine, so to speak, that he became blind to the fact that he was doing the same thing he was accusing them of doing to him and his men. Then he noticed ColHogan watching him with apparent concern. He smiled and patted her hand reassuringly.

"I'm fine. Just didn't get much sleep last night is all." He then wrapped his arms around himself and settled down to hear the testimony as court prepared to resume.

"Well," Harry exclaimed. "This is a horse of a different color!"

"Weird," Bull noted. "I don't get it."

An elated Riker tapped his now-working communicator and brought his ship up to date.

"I see it, but I can't believe it," Mason said. "It really does seem to be a perverted version of _Groundhog Day_. They finish a story and then everything resets."

One of the defendants was reminded of the novel, Riverworld, where characters would continually come back to life, no matter how many times they died.

"All right, everyone. Settle down," Harry ordered. "Colonel Hogan, it's good to see you."

"Counsel, if I'm not mistaken, I recall that we've heard our last witness. Given the circumstances, I'll overlook the request for a continuance and you two go right to closing arguments."

"That's okay by me." Riker agreed. "In fact, I can start right now."

Mason concurred.

"Great!" Harry ordered a quick recess. "We'll start in ten minutes. Fasten your seatbelts, people. It's going to be a bumpy ride."

* * *

(1) "The Princess Bride"


	6. Closing Arguments

Closing Arguments

submitted by Snooky

"Commander Riker, you're up!" Judge Stone settled back in his chair with his stress ball and gave the Starfleet officer the floor.

"Thank you, Judge. Just yesterday, ladies and gentlemen, we ourselves were witnesses to the depravity, the cruelty, the danger of this site. Following the example set forth by these defendants, another author…"

"Hochstetter," Burkhalter sneered.

"I always hated him," Klink added.

"He is not a nice man," Schultz said.

"Objection!" Mason stood up. "Objection! Can the judge request that the spectators not engage in a running commentary?"

"Sustained. You three, one more word and you're out."

Riker repeated his last sentence. "Following the example set by these defendants, another author posted a short one-shot, describing the cold-blooded murder of Colonel Hogan right here in this very courtroom. A copycat crime, if you will. These poor soldiers, mere boys, were forced to witness the death of their leader. These brave men, again, losing their commander, their friend."

"But he's alive!" This came from the gallery.

"Judge!"

"One word, sneeze, burp, anything and you're out!"

"Geez, he's testy."

Harry pointed and a bailiff bodily removed the protester. A teenage girl.

"Where was I?" Riker had lost his train of thought.

"These brave men." Janet read back.

"Thanks, Janet." Riker gave the author/stenographer a nice smile.

"Yes, he is alive and that's great. But this is just another chapter in a never-ending cycle of death, violence, angst, injury and torture. They suffer and then the storyline is reset and they suffer again. Torture, hurt and comfort, plain and simple."

"Don't forget whump!" Someone shouted.

"Whump," Riker added. He let that all sink in.

"There is ample proof of what has occurred. We have written proof. We have seen the side effects hit these characters right here in the courtroom. We have the evidence shown in the original hearings. We've seen the DVDs, which clearly show that these men were not set up, developed or written to handle this. The damage, both physical and psychological has been tremendous and we have had witnesses attest to this. The victims themselves have bravely taken the stand numerous times. And yet, Mr. Mason here and some of the defendants have come up with many creative excuses. We've heard them all. I never kill the characters. I love them too much to do that. Never mind the torture and pain I put them through. Oh, that's ok then. I always make sure they get proper medical care." Riker glared at ColHogan. "Well, who put them in the position of needing care in the first place? Hmm?"

Hogan, whose hand had been resting on ColHogan's knee, looked at the woman and shifted away.

"Ah, here's an oldie but goody." Riker stared at Snooky, who shrank down in her seat. "Show the effects of war. Nice one. I'll quote a Major Teppel, 'I would have told these people to watch the history channel.' Check out Tom Hanks and Steven Spielberg on IMDB, people. I think they've done some decent stuff. Colonel Hogan, is Sergeant Olsen feeling any better?" Hogan shook his head. "Sorry to hear that, sir. Another case of PTSD brought on by an author."

Snooky had been nicely sitting in between Newkirk and LeBeau. The two looked at her, shuddered at the memories and moved away. Hogan then pointed at Snooky and ColHogan, raised his thumb and silently ordered them to move out.

"Let's continue, shall we? I'm lonely." Riker pointed at the lovely volunteer stenographer, who suddenly attempted to disappear behind her stenotype machine. "It's understandable that you would like to pick up a new hobby, but at the expense of canon, and making these men, how can I say it, uncomfortable."

"Not to mention freezing me bum off!" Newkirk added helpfully.

"We had two authors working together who decided to play judge and jury and kill off our resident Gestapo agent multiple times. Why? Because he's nasty. And who are these authors that they alone can come up with a death sentence before the man can stand trial for his crimes?"

Riker was still not done. "And there's our under-the-weather writer who enjoyed our 24th century hospitality and medical care on our ship. His excuse? Copyright. These characters are property. So we can do what we want with them and they have no recourse. Well, I don't know about you, but slavery was abolished in the 1860's and would you treat your pet this way? Yes, ladies and gentlemen, he admitted he burned his property alive in one of his stories and we witnessed the effects right on my ship!"

"Burned alive?" Spectators in the gallery gasped. Those who were there, cried at the memory.

"And then we have Mrs. Groundwater, over there with her head in the sand. It's fiction. It doesn't matter. They don't exist. Now to be fair, Mrs. Groundwater is not alone in her virulent abuse of these fine men. No, there is a whole class of writers that have written unimaginable horrors. Unfortunately, she's the only we caught." A few titters and nervous giggles were heard coming from the defendants' area.

"Well," Riker continued, "We have heard testimony from Vic Fontaine, a hologram that, although created as a fictional character, has feelings; he can feel pain, emotions, friendship. He is self-aware, sentient, perhaps a new life form. And these new life-forms, like my friend Mr. Data, have rights. They are not property. They cannot be abused. You have seen it yourself, with your own eyes, right in this courtroom. Colonel Hogan was shot dead. He bled. He felt pain, and so did those who witnessed his death; including some of the defendants." A few of the soldiers and several defendants started shaking and began to wipe away some tears. Hogan covered his head with his hand and sank down in his seat.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I'm asking you to stop the insanity. You've heard all the excuses. You've seen the effects. You've heard the testimony of the characters. You've seen recordings of the hearings and saw the shape poor Colonel Hogan was in before my ship's doctor treated him. Show some compassion. Find these authors liable. Make it stop. Thank you."

"Well, Commander Riker. That was entertaining and enlightening. Thank you." Harry put down his stress ball and picked up his silly putty. "Mr. Mason, you're up!"

Mason calmly walked towards the front of the courtroom and turned to the jury. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I had a short closing statement prepared but after hearing what Commander Riker had to offer, well, I would like to address some of the points he emphasized. The characters aren't fit to handle these issues or weren't written or developed or set-up to deal with the life they now lead. Now, first, I think that is an insult. These are highly trained soldiers. You've seen all those medals on Colonel Hogan's dress uniform!" Mason paused and listened to the murmurs of agreement. "But, putting their training aside; with every story, the characters grow and learn. And they carry that experience with them into the next story. You'll recall testimony in the hearings. We discovered personal information about the characters that was not seen or developed in the show. It was quite an emotional experience for everyone, was it not?" Everyone nodded in agreement.

"Mrs. Groundwater and her, 'They're not real' excuse. I still don't quite understand how we can have a group of characters here in 2009, from a sitcom that aired in the 1960's, that took place in the 1940's, with characters performed by actors mainly born in the 20's and 30's. And by here, I mean, New York City, in a courtroom presided over by a Judge from the 80's, despite the fact that these are POW's being held somewhere in the middle of Germany. And they somehow go back to their camp at night!"

"Highly illogical." This was whispered by a Vulcan to another Starfleet officer. The two were sitting with a group of Starfleet observers in the gallery.

"Sounds like a Q-type scenario if you ask me." The officer had had several experiences with Q and they were not pretty.

Captain Picard had transported down to see the ending. "I can assure you, it's not Q. But he told me he wishes he had thought of it."

Mason plopped a copy of the United States Constitution on Harry's desk. "Judge, we had a prosecution witness, Margherita, bring up this hallowed document. It seems she feels that liberty and justice for all applies equally to everyone, including fictional characters, or as Snoopy called them, 'Facsimiles'. Well, Commander Riker brought up decisions made in the 24th century that property, or created life-forms, or holograms, or androids or whatever else you can think of have rights and are their own persons, responsible for their own lives. So, what Mr. Riker is saying, is that these decisions made centuries from now, also apply to these life-forms we see here. Ladies and Gentlemen, that can not apply in this case.

Susan quickly turned around to Denise. "Ex Post Facto! He may have something here, if he's going where I think he's going!"

"What's that?" Denise asked.

"It's in the Constitution. Listen."

Mason turned toward the jury. "The Constitution in Section 1, article 9, strictly prohibits ex post facto, 'which is a law that retroactively changes the legal consequences of acts committed or the legal status of facts and relationships that existed prior to the enactment of the law'. (1) So how could these decisions made in the 24th century have any validity concerning what is happening here and now?"

"Objection!" Riker stood up and walked over to the Judge and Mason. "Mr. Mason, I thought you were better than that. Judge, I thought this only applied to criminal law?"

"There is a lot of debate on that. I think it would apply to civil cases. But I don't want to get into a constitutional law debate here, gentlemen. We would have to adjourn for days." The Judge looked up at the spectators. Some were already dozing off.

"I move that we strike the use of this. Too complicated." Riker asserted.

"It applies, Judge. You can't apply a decision from the 24th century that recognizes weird life-forms as more than property to 1940's fictional characters!" Mason asserted.

This was turning into a tennis match. "Hold it! Give me five minutes and I'll make a decision." The Judge retreated to his chambers.

"Told you that was good," Susan said.

"How did you know about that?" Denise asked.

"AP US history. Helping my daughter study. Did you ever actually read the Constitution? It's really…" The Judge had returned. Everyone quieted down and waited for his decision.

"I've decided not to include Mr. Mason's defense regarding Ex Post Facto because, in my opinion, the framers of the Constitution, the authors of the Federalist papers and all of those smart people back then could not possibly have had in mind that time-travel, holograms, androids and the internet would have existed, and they might have made an exception if they had. Jury, disregard Mr. Mason's use of Ex Post Facto please."

Mason gave the Judge a look and stomped back to his table. Riker whispered a, "Yes!" to himself, while the defendants looked glum.

"Mr. Mason, are you done?"

"What, oh, sorry, Judge. No. Ladies and Gentlemen, World War two is not filled with nice people, as Mrs. Groundwater said. If these stories were nice tales of POW's picking flowers, honestly, who would read them? The characters are perfectly capable of handling themselves and getting out of trouble. They're strong. They've grown. If you believe they are real, and I doubt they are, and if you don't like these dramatic stories, well, don't read them!"

"But, what about the angst and torture? It's horrible. You can do drama without torture!"

The Judge gave the spectators a quick glance and spied the offender. "Bull, throw out the literary critic!"

"People, these are fictional characters. This is all fiction!" Mason quieted down and spoke slowly to the jury. "This is all fiction. The defendants are innocent. They are writing stories for facsimiles of characters in a TV show. And they are responsible for bringing them back to life in the first place! Fiction! I'm done!" Mason was clearly exasperated. Having his big constitutional law argument overruled had put him in a testy mood.

"Lovely." Harry turned to the jury. "Okay, people. Here's your instructions. You will be taken to an overheated room with uncomfortable chairs, a nice big table, a whiteboard, lots of coffee, and danish. There, you can examine all the evidence, go over all the testimony, replay all the DVDs, watch the original hearings and hopefully come up with a fair and impartial decision before the war ends and this all becomes moot. Righto, everyone. Go take a long break and we'll notify you when the jury comes back." Harry banged his gavel and the crowd began to move out of the courtroom to wait for the verdict.

(1) Wikipedia


	7. The Perfect Ending

The Perfect Ending

By Denise, Janet and Susan

Denise and Susan were hurt by being jilted during the closing arguments. The reminder of the angst the authors had put them through put Hogan and his men in a dark mood. The ladies were then sent packing!

Susan was in tears. "I gave him mouth-to-mouth."

Denise was fuming. "We had dinner and…"

Janet tried to calm her friends down. "I'm sure it's temporary. Let them get over the memories and they'll let you come back."

The talk then shifted to the horrific scene that played out in front of them the day before. "I still can't believe Hochstetter wrote that," Denise recalled. "He had to know he'd be caught."

"I think he went off his rocker. He wasn't thinking straight. All he wanted was revenge. Think of everything he's heard here and he hasn't been able to act on it." Susan said.

Janet added that she had heard he had been extradited back to Germany.

"I never thought a scenario would actually work at the trial." Denise was contemplating the possibilities.

"You're right," Susan added. "Too bad we can't post our own ending."

The other two women looked at her. "What? What did I say? Oh, no. That would be so wrong. Nope, not going to do it." Susan was adamant.

"Look," Janet said, "If they find for the plaintiffs, they'll take away our writing privileges. Do you want that?"

"No, but…"

"Won't they disappear out of existence?" Denise reminded everyone of Doc Brown's testimony.

"Maybe. That would be awful." Susan sighed. "I'm not optimistic, you know, come to think of it. First, they're obviously alive. I mean, look at them. If they weren't, I'd be hallucinating, wouldn't I?"

The other two authors agreed.

"The jury is made up of other characters." Janet reminded them.

"But what about us being responsible for their creation?" Denise asked.

"Just because you create something, doesn't give you the right to abuse it, or hold power over it." Margherita had overheard the conversation and decided to put in her two cents.

"But I don't want to stop writing!" Janet whined.

"Me, neither." Susan was emphatic. "But we can't force everyone to write G rated-feel good stories all the time either."

"I think Susan's accidental thought has merit." Margherita again offered her opinion. "Besides, no more writing means no more PBA's." Margherita actually felt some sympathy for some of the authors and wanted to continue writing as well. She just hoped maybe they had learned a lesson.

"No, you can't do that. That's jury tampering or court tampering or something fishy." Susan got nervous. "It's not right."

"Here, Sue, let me have your laptop." Denise held out her hand. She whispered something to Susan, who sighed, shrugged and then gave in. She handed the computer over. Denise checked to make sure no one was looking and started typing.

"Wait." Susan stopped her. "What if they trace it to my computer?"

"Why would they try? It's not like someone was being murdered or anything." Denise kept typing.

"Good point. Just don't use my name."

* * * * * *

Hogan stole a glance at the two authors that had only recently been sharing his bench. He felt a little guilty for being so hard on them and kicking them out. After all, one had repented long ago and he had spent a lovely evening with the other. He recalled their concern and kindness as he lay dying. The other authors, well, some of them he had no use for, but for the most part, they weren't all bad. One, Margherita, had really stuck up for him and his men. Poor Janet was just lonely, and the rest; they were dropped into a very unusual situation, just as he and his men had been.

He sat back in a comfortable position and contemplated the various scenarios. Hogan always needed a plan A and he usually always thought of a plan B in case plan A failed. If the jury dismissed his case, they'd be back to square one; living out scenario after scenario, at the total mercy of the writers. Unless some of them learned something from this experience. Fat chance! He laughed. Somehow, he doubted it. If the jury found for the plaintiffs, well then, what? A cease and desist order. The writers would be forbidden to publish anything more on the site. What would happen? Would they move over to another unsuspecting sitcom and take out their frustrations on other characters? He shuddered at the thought. What if they were civilians? And then there was the big question. Would he and his men cease to exist? No one knew for sure. The scientists on the Enterprise were never able to fully answer the question. Hogan and his men were obviously not holograms, able to continue their lives without interference from the outside.

Hogan was sure of one thing. He knew he and his men had somehow leapt from a TV episode to a storyline on . And that reality scared him. So what would it be? No more angst, injury, violence, and torture; but possible extinction, or the status quo? He looked over at his men. They all trusted him to make the right decisions. He was in command and he knew he would have to make this decision alone.

* * * * * *

"Well? What do you think so far?" Denise paused in her typing and looked up.

"Looks good. Here let me finish." Susan grabbed the laptop and typed while the other three women looked over her shoulder_. I started this lunacy_, she thought. _I might as well end it._

* * * * * *

Hogan came to a decision and briefed his men. They were shocked but knew better than to question their C.O. He then went over to Commander Riker and held a tense and brief conversation. Finally, Riker acquiesced, understood Hogan's argument and frankly, in the long run, he couldn't blame the man. He approached the bench and requested a meeting with Judge Stone and Perry Mason in his chambers. He brought Hogan with him.

Harry was suitably shocked. "Colonel, after all you've been through. Are you sure?"

"It hit me all of a sudden. Don't know why, Judge. But I can't take the chance that a verdict in our favor would actually end up killing my men."

"That would be ironic." Harry absentmindedly picked up his Rubik's cube and began twisting it. "You do realize that if you abide by this decision, things will go back to the way they were."

Hogan said he understood.

Harry opened the door. "Bull, corral the defendants, and recall the jury. We have an announcement."

Everyone began speculating. It was too early for a verdict. Was there new evidence? Was Hochstetter framed? Spectators, prisoners and the jury all took their seats.

"Ladies and Gents. The plaintiffs have decided to drop the charges. Case dismissed." Harry banged his gavel, thanked the stunned jury for their service and stood back to watch the chaos.

Hogan and his men sat glumly in their seats watching the celebrations and congratulations of the defendants. Mason and Riker shook hands and secretly hoped they would never have to deal with this situation ever again. Denise, Janet, Susan and Margherita high-fived each other, and then quietly left the rest of the defendants to their revelry. They saw how dejected the plaintiffs looked, and went over to talk to them and say good-bye.

"Well?" Susan asked.

"Needs more." Janet said. "Here, let me add something." Susan passed the laptop over.

*******

Just then the door burst open, and in walked a man wearing desert fatigues. All eyes turned in his direction, and everyone stopped in their tracks, stunned…he was the spit and image of Captain Wagner! As the man made his way toward the group, Janet weaved her way quickly through the crowd, and when she got near, practically leaped on the man, throwing her arms around him tightly. He hugged her back, holding her like he never wanted to let go. Then he leaned back and looked at her with a big smile on his face. She reached up and touched his cheek, tears of joy welling up in her eyes, and before a word could be spoken, he drew her in and they kissed passionately, causing a gasp of surprise from the rest of the occupants of the room.

When at last their kiss ended, Janet looked up into the man's hazel eyes, and said quietly, "You're really here," a mixture of surprise and happiness showing on her face.

"I'm really here." The man replied, and then glanced over at the crowd, noticing that most of them were looking at him curiously.

Janet saw where his gaze had wandered to, and exclaimed, "Oh, where are my manners?" She grabbed the man's hand and led him over to the group. "Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to introduce you to my husband, Amaizin Blue."

Hogan was the first to hold out his hand. "So, you're the Navy guy we've heard so much about. Well, it's good to meet you."

Amaizin Blue shook Hogan's hand. "I'm glad to meet you too, sir." He said respectfully. "My wife writes about you all the time."

Hogan smiled at him. "Yeah, what is it with these women?"

Amaizin Blue just shrugged his shoulders and smiled back. Janet looked embarrassed.

A few more people came up to greet Janet's husband. When it was Kinch's turn, he couldn't help asking, "So, your pen name is Amaizin Blue? You wouldn't by any chance be a Michigan fan, would you?"

Amaizin Blue smiled wide. "Born and raised in Ann Arbor."

Kinch's face beamed. "I'm from Detroit. You must be a Lion's fan, too. Say, how are they doing in your year?"

All of the visitors from 2009 who followed NFL football looked uncomfortable.

Amaizin Blue's smile faltered. "Well, let's just say they should do much better this year."

"Yeah, they couldn't do any worse!" Someone shouted.

As Kinch turned away, Amaizin Blue found himself standing in front of an English Corporal, who he recognized right away.

"The name's Newkirk," the man stated, holding out his hand. When Amaizin Blue reached out to shake it, Newkirk leaned in a little and, lowering his voice, said, "I don't suppose you could get your wife to ease up a bit on writin' about me, could you, mate? Especially some o' the, ah, situations she puts me in with the Colonel?"

Amaizin Blue looked understandingly at him and replied, "Better you than me!" Suddenly he felt a tug on his arm, and the next thing he knew, Janet was leading him toward her fellow authors, leaving a very disappointed-looking Newkirk behind.

"And these are my friends, Sue, Denise, and Magherita." Janet smiled as she introduced them.

"It's nice to meet you, ladies," Amaizin Blue greeted them warmly. "I've heard so much about you."

"We've heard a lot about you, too." Susan replied politely. "How long will you be staying here?"

"Well, I'm stationed in Djibouti, and unfortunately, I have to return in the morning." He turned to Janet. "I booked us a room in the hotel across the street. I thought we could…"

Janet's eyes grew wide as she interrupted him. "Well, what are we standing around here, for, then?" She looked quickly around the room. "Guys, it's been real…" She realized what she'd just said, and shook her head, "It's been great seeing all of you, but we're out of here!" Then she and her husband turned and headed out of the room, arm-in-arm.

Other folks started to make their way out of the courtroom, making it apparent that it was time to leave. Hogan had taken a seat on the bench, and his men were milling about nearby. Susan and Denise knew it was time to say their farewells. Susan approached first. She gave Newkirk a peck on the cheek. "Take care, Peter. I know you'll get home safely. Louis, I'll finish your chapter. I've already started." She said her good-bye to Kinch and faced Carter. "Forgive me?"

"I suppose." He said shyly.

Hogan was sitting on the bench. "Colonel?"

"Susan," he said. The twinkle in his eyes was back.

She sat down. "You feeling better?"

"I'll live."

"Thanks for dropping the charges."

"I did it for my men. I couldn't see this all disappear, no matter how awful it is."

Susan felt a pang of guilt. "Is Sergeant Olsen feeling better?"

"Getting there, "Hogan replied. "I'll find him some help."

"Good. Tell him I'm sorry. Well, this is it, I guess. Good luck, Rob. The war will end."

"I know."

Susan was about to get up, when Hogan, a twinkle in his eye, put his arms around her and moved in to kiss her, pushing her gently against the back of the bench. He held her there, pressed against the seat, his kiss growing deeper, until she thought she would literally swoon. Her arms encircled him, and she slid her hand up his muscular back; running her fingers lightly through his soft, thick, dark hair. Hogan continued to kiss her passionately for a few more moments, and then leaned back and looked intensely into her eyes.

"Write some nice stories, once in a while." Hogan said quietly, and smiled at her.

Susan could only nod; he'd left her speechless.

Hogan then got up and, after giving Susan's hand one last squeeze, turned to face Denise. "As for you…"

Denise's eyes widened, as if to say, "Who, me?"

"Yes, you," Hogan answered her silent question. 'I still don't know your real name."

"It's Denise," she replied demurely.

"Denise, I've got a special 'goodbye' in mind for you, and I think I'd prefer some privacy. I'm going to see if that hotel across the street has any more rooms available. I think the fellas can give me an hour before we head back to camp." He lifted his arm in a gentlemanly fashion and smiled invitingly at her. "Care to join me?"

Now it was Denise's turn to nod, speechless. She grabbed his arm, and the two of them strolled out of the courtroom. They emerged into the cool, clear evening and, after crossing the road, found themselves standing in front of the hotel. They entered the lobby and approached the front desk to acquire about a room. Luckily, one was available, and as soon as the clerk handed over the keycard, they headed straight for it.

When they got inside, they both noticed how nicely decorated the room was. The walls were a soft blue, and there were several rather ornate paintings hanging on each one. There was a large cherry wood desk to one side, and a huge flat-screen TV against the far wall. But what really caught their attention was the king-size bed in the middle of the room.

Hogan motioned Denise into the room, and then followed her, closing and locking the door behind him. He moved to stand in front of her, and at last looked into her eyes.

"This may be the last time we ever see each other," Denise sighed, her expression a mixture of joy and sadness.

Hogan reached up and placed his hand lightly on her cheek. "Then let's make it unforgettable." He replied softly. He gazed into her eyes a moment longer, then leaned in slowly, snaking his other arm around her, and pulled her close as he planted his lips against hers. He kissed her, tenderly at first, and then, as he felt her arms encircle him, his kiss deepened, and he drew her tighter against himself. He slid his hand from her cheek to behind her head, holding it firmly so he could press his mouth harder against hers. After a few moments he leaned back and gazed into her eyes once again. He reached down and grabbed Denise's hands, and started to lead her over to the bed. She went willingly, happily, wishing this night could last forever. When they got there, she sat down on the edge of the mattress, and Hogan sat down next to her, wrapping both arms around her, pulling her closer. He began to kiss her again; passionately, deeply. Then he leaned in, and started kissing her neck.

Denise felt Hogan's lips on her neck, his hot breath caressing her skin, and it sent a shiver through her. She closed her eyes and reached up, running her fingers through his hair. Hogan brought his head up and once again locked lips with her. He pulled Denise down onto the bed, and started kissing her fervently, his hands reaching for the buttons on her blouse. But before he could get even one button undone, Denise stopped him. "Aren't you forgetting something?" She whispered in his ear.

Hogan understood what she was referring to. He reluctantly got up; staggering quickly to the door. He grabbed the sign that was hanging on the knob and, after unlocking the door, stuck it on the outside doorknob, with the side stating, "Do Not Disturb" facing the hall. Then he shut and locked the door once more, and went back to pick up where he'd left off.

* * * * * *

No, no, no!" Susan grabbed her laptop away from Janet before she could type one more word.

Janet looked up in surprise. "But I thought you both wanted a steamy goodbye from Hogan…that's why you gave me your laptop."

"Not THAT steamy!" Sue exclaimed.

"Speak for yourself." Denise muttered.

Susan sat down with her laptop and, after thinking for a moment, started typing. "I've got a better way to end this." She said.

* * * * *

Hogan and the rest of the plaintiffs arrived at court, thankful that this was the last day, and eager to hear the verdict that had been so long in coming. They were hopeful that they would win; after all, the evidence overwhelmingly pointed in their favor. As they entered the courtroom, they looked up and gasped; Bugs Bunny was seated at the prosecutor's desk, Daffy duck was standing by the defense table, and the judge appeared to be none other than Yosemite Sam! They looked over at the jury box, and their shock grew as they noticed a collection of other Looney Toons characters seated there; Porky Pig, Wile E. Coyote, the Roadrunner, Elmer Fudd, Sylvester and Tweety, Foghorn Leghorn, the chickenhawk; and was that the tennis shoe monster?

"Wha…what happened to the other courtroom?" Hogan stuttered in disbelief.

"Eh, what's up, doc?" Bugs Bunny answered. "What other courtroom might you be referrin' to?"

"The one where I…I mean, the one that I just…"

"Look, Mac," Daffy Duck piped up, "You're gonna have to settle down. We've got a verdict to get through, here."

"Confound it!" Yosemite Sam banged his gavel and looked at the jury. "What's your answer, ya yella-bellied varmints?"

"Thufferin' thuccotash!" Sylvester stood up, having been appointed the jury foreman. "We find the defendants, your honor…"

"Gu-gu-guilty, your honor!" Porky Pig called out.

"Not guilty!" Tweety countered.

"Well, I think they'we guilty, hahahaha!" Elmer Fudd chimed in.

"Meep, meep!" _Who else_?

"Excuse me, but I don't think they're guilty at all." Came a voice from the back of the juror's box. "In fact, you are making me angry…very angry!"

"Who picked the Martian to be on the jury?" Asked Daffy.

Yosemite Sam banged his gavel again. "All right, you lily-livered, poor excuse for a jury, I just want to know what the verdict is!"

A chorus of voices rang out, half shouting guilty, half, not guilty.

"Looks like we've got a hung jury, your honor," Bugs Bunny replied.

"What? Nobody said anything about hangin' the jury!" Foghorn Leghorn exclaimed as he leaped out of his chair and headed for the exit. "I'm gettin', I say, I'm gettin out of here!"

Suddenly the entire jury box emptied, every character running for their lives. When order was finally restored, Hogan looked at Bugs Bunny, then at Daffy Duck, and then finally at Yosemite Sam. "So, did we win?" He asked.

Bugs Bunny looked at him and shrugged his shoulders. "Eh," he said, "I think I'd call this a draw."

"What?" Yosemite Sam yelled, "You want to draw? Well, I'm ready for you, rabbit! Let's see who's got the fastest guns in the West!"

"I think you better get out of here now, doc," Bugs told Hogan.

Hogan didn't need to be told twice. He gathered up his men, and they headed back to camp, wondering why they had been put through this whole ordeal in the first place.

But they didn't have to wonder long. The very next day, they were off on another adventure. But unlike the past, the stories disappeared from their memories, once they concluded. They had no recollection of the trial, or the authors, or whether they themselves were real or not. They were on a mission, and all that mattered to them was taking care of business, and fooling the Germans. And that's how it should be, after all.

That's all, folks! Go back to your writing!


End file.
